


Vantablack

by Mo_Coughlin (tazlwyrm)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Eldritch Abomination, Flash Fiction, Gen, Horror, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tazlwyrm/pseuds/Mo_Coughlin
Summary: Renee has been living in a rented apartment room for half a year, psychologically tormented by a mysterious locked door that the old owner refuses to explain or allow her access to. Now, she finally has her hands on the key...





	Vantablack

**Author's Note:**

> **Content warning for vomiting**  
>  Enjoy (?)

       With some apprehension, Renee reached into the jewelry box and grabbed the key. A sound from outside the room made her head whip around to the open bedroom door; she momentarily thought she had been caught.

       After waiting the space of a few heartbeats, she turned her attention back to the key clutched tightly in her shaking hands. Of course the old bat that Renee rented her room from had been hiding the damn thing away in some creepy jewelry box. It was fairly heavy, made of wrought iron and marked with otherworldly symbols. It also seemed to vibrate as she held it. This had to be it—the key to the locked door that had been tormenting her for months. 

        Ms. Gabler had brushed her off every time she asked about it.

       “ _My_ house, _my_ business!” as she would put it, often jabbing her with a frighteningly cold finger. Renee could always feel the woman’s glare even through the dark sunglasses Ms. Gabler always wore; she was never seen without them.

       She hated that she had to stick around that place, living with a secretive person who did nothing but shout at her or mutter to herself. But, the room was cheap and close to the bus stop that took Renee to her dull data-entry job. She had learned to live with everything for convenience’s sake—everything except that fucking  _door_.

       The area around it was always deathly cold, and the wooden frame had crude markings etched into it—not unlike the symbols on the key. Sometimes, Renee swore she could hear a low, droning hum emanating from it and the wood seemed to pulse with the sound. Normally, people would stay away from such a thing, which Renee had elected to do at first. She soon discovered that she couldn’t— _physically_ couldn’t.

       Some force drew Renee to the door. She found herself pausing by it, checking it for cracks that she could see through, or wildly jiggling the doorknob to see if it had been left unlocked. On a few occasions, she had awoken in the middle of the night curled up outside it with no memory of leaving her bed. Those nights, she would find that her fingertips were torn and a few new scratch marks had been left in the wood.

       With the key finally in hand, Renee stood before the door. The low hum had been replaced by whispering. Cool tendrils of the sound seemed to lap at her ears. In her right mind she might have been concerned, but any inkling of worry was dismissed under the excuse of the troublesome radio in the kitchen simply giving off static. The key clicked into the lock and the door opened on its own, dragging her into the room.  

       She paused. The dimly-lit room was empty aside from a single object—a floating, black orb. It made no movement at Renee’s entrance. It was just _there,_ suspended four feet above the hardwood floor. Despite its stasis, it was terrifying. It was the deepest black Renee had ever seen; darker than a starless night sky, or a room without windows in the middle of the night. The only reason she knew it was an orb at all was because it curved backwards the same way on all sides when she cautiously circled it. Otherwise she would have thought it was a hole punctured in reality.

       The orb hurt to look at it—it _really hurt_. The sheer incomprehensibility of it seemed to gouge her eyes, which dripped cold liquid down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe away the tears, and startled when her hand came away stained black. Then the retching started. Tar-like ooze flowed from her mouth, slapping to the ground in viscous puddles.

       The humming returned to join the whispering, and Renee tried to scream. Nothing came out. She could barely breathe let alone call out. Her feet started moving on their own, drawing her further towards the orb. She tried to fight it, coughing up more and more filth from her rapidly filling lungs.

       Then she was unconsciously reaching for the orb. Her hands and arms slowly began to absorb into it as they made contact. There was a noise behind her, and with massive difficulty she turned her head towards it. Ms. Gabler haunted the doorway, still holding a plastic shopping bag in her stiff grasp. Renee wanted to shout at her and beg for help, but no words could work past the thick sludge that immobilized her tongue.

       The witch merely stood where she was and slowly removed her sunglasses, revealing impossibly black eyes.

       “A little earlier than I intended, but this will do just fine.” She paused, grinning. “Feed away, my dear.”


End file.
